


All Hallows' Eve

by Shiniboo



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Seta Souji/Adachi Tohru - Freeform, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-26 22:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiniboo/pseuds/Shiniboo
Summary: On Halloween night Adachi lures Souji into the Midnight Channel to force him to contend against the corrupted nature of the personality he knows Souji tries to hide from everyone. However, things quickly begin to spiral out of control as the truth of their relationship and feelings begin to get in the way of his plans.





	All Hallows' Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my FanFiction.Net account by the same name. (Combined Part One & Two)

_|Tohru Adachi| -Thoughts_

**||Seta Souji|| - Thoughts**  

* * *

On Halloween night the schools proposed a rare treat which allowed teenagers to leave early to prepare for the festivities ahead. Anxious students rushed home to adorn their costumes—ghouls, witches, vampires, werewolves, and the undead all making their appearance amongst the various fiends. In spite of the apparent joy and excitement captivating their beloved children into the neighborhood streets, most parents clung to their wrists in terror; since the stream of deaths circulating in the media of the small town still remained unsolved. However, teachers and local authorities encouraged parents to utilize the entertainment as a means of returning a sense of peace and balance while, also, ensuring that their children would be safe. Thus, with conflicted smiles, parents released their wrists and the celebration began.

Beyond the reach of rowdy masqueraders—excited for candy, haunted houses, and fright—one teenager stands alone on the sidewalk beneath a flickering streetlamp. The eighteen year old senior wears the outfit of a paladin with his short silver stands catching the gentle gusts of autumn in the air; complimenting his guise of a majestic appearance. Shinning golden armor encases his limbs, while a long cape at his back helps provide warmth as he surveys the area with resolute eyes of changing hues, though gray at the moment.

In his grasp a long sword lays sheathed tightly, as he searches for the familiar dance of a swaying lantern. Only on Halloween night can he spend the darkening hours with his elusive lover. When the sun disappeared over the horizon the game had already commenced, thus leaving him with a shortened amount of precious time for them to be together. Already he knows those booted feet have touched down on earth and welcomed those demonic wings to rest; while that impressive, spade-tipped tail sways carelessly along the ground. His partner is usually very withdrawn from things unless driven to facades, but these nights always bring forth the truth residing within the man's soul. What he witnesses on these nights invokes a maddening sensation, an insatiable desire prickling at the peak of his resistance until he is fulfilled by the one who stirred him up inside one fateful day on the battlefield.

Yet, he is bound by the rules of the one responsible and must first locate the man somewhere in the expanse of this small town: Inaba. It shouldn't take long to pinpoint the personification of his obsession yet, even if there aren't many places to search, his lover is terribly talented in avoiding him. Sometimes, his lover draws him into worlds never known to exist. Nevertheless, resigned to the rules of the game at hand, the teenager known as Souji begins his quest by dashing into the hordes of zealous adolescents to seek out his naughty incubus.

* * *

Elsewhere a demon, needing no disguise, casually walks beyond streets and alleyways; further from hyper children and ghastly creatures to head toward a deserted television store. Glass is all that stands blocking his path to the technology staring him in the face and with a mischievous smile he removes a lone pistol from the holster beneath the raincoat adorning his form to aim it at the pitiful barrier. For a moment he merely stares unmoving, taking in his mirrored reflection solemnly.

Dull eyes gaze back at him, their normal dark hue blazing in an auric color and giving more depth to his plain appearance. Short strands, untamed in their meager length, and pointed fangs paint the rest of the portrait as his miniature bat wings poke up high on his back and his spaded tail continues its calm sway behind him. Through the front of the raincoat a red tie, blue suit, and pair of brown pants can sparsely be seen; which lessens the chance of such a display giving wind to his daily identity as: an assistant detective.

Flashing a pearly white smile, the man wastes no more time in firing the pistol and shattering the window to pieces with a single bullet. Keeping his weapon handy, the demon dances over the glass shards and sets out in hooking up all the televisions so he can prepare for a special midnight show. A spectacle that will undoubtedly please his determined boyfriend, or at least give him more time off his back since he knows by now exactly what to except from the younger man. He really didn't know how he manages to keep up with the other, especially since they aren't even supposed to be together. And yet, for some reason—

“Tohru-chan!” The man in question cringes at the use of his first name so _affectionately_ but otherwise quickens his haste to finish syncing the televisions. Chancing a glance over his shoulder, the fiend smiles at the sight of the other bound in the arms of his meddlesome schoolmates who probably haven't seen the other much for obvious reasons. Snickering to himself, Adachi completes the task of bring all the televisions to life just in time for midnight and the opening of the rift between theirs and the world beyond those screens; a world of consciousness that houses shadows and so much more.

Hopping down from his perch on top a collection of stacked televisions he listens to the heavenly sound of static before the screens depict a room straight out of a horror movie with blood everywhere, haunting pictures scattered all over the walls, and anything else one can possibly imagine in their nightmares. Pressing his palm onto a single screen, a smoky breath escapes his lips before he simply climbs through the once solid barrier to appear on the other side in that precise macabre room. Basking in the décor, he recalls the handiwork done by his own hands to create this room and the woman he _accidentally_ locked inside until the shadows came and devoured her soul.

If he listens closely he can still hear her desperate screams, which only makes him grin wider in satisfaction. The whore really deserved the type of death he granted her and he would be damned if he ever regretted a single second of it. This corrupt side of him, as others might _wrongly_ consider it, is why Souji should not be the one chasing after him or trying to bind him to a world he wants burning in anarchy. Only through anarchy can the desires of humans truly be fulfilled.

Despite his views, the teenager manages to demand that the elder remain his possession when he should have been locked in a jail cell ages ago if it weren't for his escape into this world. Within this realm he can spread his influence into the world merely through the rumor of the **Midnight Channel** granting wishes to those who manage to catch the special broadcast, though none of them realize what he shows them is something far greater than anything their simple minds can possibly wish for. Even so, for all his evil deeds, that boy insists on purifying his mind—as if he needs such sentiments—and won't allow him to be caught.

The foolish teenager protects him, directs his classmates who are hot on his trail away from him and even keeps a close enough eye on the detectives working against him. All the dedication, the magnitude of love, is all for him the other repeatedly tells him and, to this day, Adachi still didn't know how to properly react to such a strong declaration. How can he respond when all he can think about is how he is twenty-seven years old with an uninteresting appearance and personality, and how they are polar opposites in seemingly every way; especially considering their mental views of the world. Their differences labeled them as enemies, which made sense for the longest time, until fate landed him pinned underneath the other—in the twisted maze he created to destroy him—with hot lips sealed over his own. To say he had been shocked would have been an understatement.

He cannot comprehend why Souji would pursue him, why he would kiss him nearly out of the blue, but he realizes since that single moment their entire relationship have taken an almost one-hundred-and-eighty degrees turn. Instead of enemies, their regard towards each other has gradually morphed into something blurring the lines previously separating them. Now the label is left blank and, strangely, for an unknown reason he has accepted the change—somewhat—and allowed himself to be the receiver of the others' feelings on numerous occasions. In spite of this, the desire to resist remains raging inside his system, though the effort is aggravatingly futile when battling the passion yearning to swallow him whole. Those overwhelming feelings...this is the first time he is on the receiving end to know what it feels like to be wanted. In fact the whole reason he murdered that bitch is because she stomped all over his feelings to rather have a relationship with someone else.

So, why can such a juvenile man tempt him with such foreign sensations and make him crave to understand the feelings directed toward him? Is he only going to be deceived again?

A proper conscience would tell him there isn't any possible way he can do something so cold-blooded to someone else as to squash their emotions without another thought; not even to Souji, who should be his enemy and not his lover. When it comes to Souji, there is so much more on the table than he is prepared to address. For all that it's worth, he cannot understand why Souji eagerly searches for him when many of his female classmates would love nothing more than to catch his eye. Souji, with his patient and accepting personality combined with his attractive features, could win over anyone's heart. Yet, for some reason, he sacrifices time and time again to embrace plain old Adachi, who people tend to pay little attention to unless he screws up or does something clumsy. It just didn't make any sense no matter how hard he strained his mind to ponder their relationship.

Perhaps agonizing debates aren't the manner to go about getting answers?

Tonight, if things go according to plan, he will reveal the naked truth of his lover's true persona. For during those three-hundred-and-sixty-five days since Souji disembarked at the train station and became submerged within the murder investigation, that seemly began the moment he arrived, the proceedings have always gone the teenager's way no matter how many obstacles he had to overcome. That ease, and almost lack of effort, has driven Adachi into madness on numerous occasions.

Why, for some unexplained reason, does fortunate turn a blind eye on him day after day yet shine favorably on Souji?

He has to unlock the secret.

Actions might speak loud enough to explain all the uncertainty behind unspoken words.

Normal aspiring adolescents would be horrified to hear news of a female body speared atop a radio tower, yet for some bizarre twist of fate something compelled Souji to divulge into the case on a deeper level by his own means. Regardless of the confrontation glaring him down, no fear shown in those foreign eyes. Even the first time they stood on the battlefield, later down the line while the adhesive keeping his brilliant scheme together became undone, the teenager showed overwhelming confidence and determination. Those gray eyes could leave him feeling so frighteningly undressed, as if that soul never once tested could see into the basic elements of others.

Maybe that's why the scene of their first meeting was veiled in caution tape and littered with signs leading in the wrong directions?

Just maybe.

Or perhaps such a contorted layout was the only means that would allow them to truly express themselves without guises and masks?

Whatever it may be...to banish the stains of the past he will make sure the one standing completely bare is not him. The power intensifying those eyes no longer unnerves him or leaves him hesitant in progressing forth in his fiendish endeavors. When Souji and his pathetic companions traversed the gateway into this realm, something protected the youth from challenging his shadow. Something granted him the power to unleash such amazing strength without having to face the unsavory appearance of one's true self. A haunting inkling whispers to him that the teenager too must have crossed paths with the same being that unlocked his potential, but he would rather not sink into that line of thought.

Since he cannot actually fabricate what is required to draw forth an individual's true persona, using the loyal shadows keeping him company will merely have to suffice.

Smiling deviously at the notion, Adachi pads over the expansion of the macabre room blocking him from the blackened creatures waiting patiently during the time he remained submerged in heavy contemplation. Turning the silver knob, creeping beyond the threshold and into a long expanding hallway of simple black and white tiles depicting noticeable stains of far more than mere blood, the humanoid demon raises up his lantern in the ebony haze.

Immediately, blotches of dark misty figures—better described as black blobs–begin to clutter up the space with their piercing golden hues settling on him. A traitorous shiver racks up his spine as he meets their gazes solemnly, before crouching down in front of the nearest one. In spite of the numerous occasions he has spent with these usually violent shadows, a degree of the eerie sensation they invoke still remains to cause a bit of discomfort. They listen to him, allow him to control them, yet as their master he knows at any moment their mutual understanding can change and they could attack him. Nevertheless, as things are now, they need each other to continue to exist on the top of the food chain this realm maintains. For now he is their brain and they are his brawn, anything else exchanged between them is merely perks.

Succeeding in collecting himself after losing his bearings too easily, Adachi reaches out to caress the abnormally smooth surface of the creature in front of him. To his satisfaction, a screeching hum that he has grown numbly used to rings forth from the being's throat in a pleased sound of gratitude. Continuing his ministrations, the man is unsurprised when two dark arms escape from the shadow's body and materialize to latch onto his wrist and hand for the simple glee of touching his strikingly distinguished texture. Such an exchange happens quite often, for the shadows have a desire to explore the differences separating them from him. And they never seem to get tired of probing him to sate their interests.

“Maa-ster,” The shadow drawls with extreme difficulty, as its hands tug on the appendage caressing its head.

The greeting smile slowly vanishes from his features into a knowing frown, even as the shadowy creature works strenuously to form the words to alert him of the danger crossing over into this realm. “It's Halloween in my world, do you remember what I told you? Do you remember what we will do this year?” He questions the creatures around him in a soft tone, while willing his eyes to pass over each and everyone of them as he retracts his hand and stand up again.

With a snap of his fingers the warm glow of the lantern returns to his grasp, causing the creatures to slide backwards in displeasure. “Bear with it, my friends. I told you before, humans are so humorous...they will seek out the light even if doing so leads them into further danger instead of leading them into sanctuary,” Adachi murmurs in the same foreboding voice, while welcoming a determined smirk onto his face. “He recognizes this light very well... so transform into the visage we practiced for when he arrives.”

> _|Souji, are you prepared to realize love isn't strong enough to alter the nature of one's heart? If it was... [she] would have been mine and not [his]._
> 
> _Don't you get it?_
> 
> _Desire rules over love, and my desire to bring out the underlining truth of this world won't be beaten by your love. Once you face the shadow of your true self and accept this fact...the sooner we can stop this confusing exchange and fight on simple terms as enemies for the fate of this grotesquely beautiful world.|_

* * *

Beyond the gate of consciousness, surrounded by deep orange mist, the solemn appearance of Souji makes itself known to the familiar yet foreign atmosphere. This place is so befitting of his lover that it actually pains him to be here. All that binds his lover to this realm, all that corrupts his mind, takes root in this stream of consciousness and leaves him feeling extreme hatred. Every time fate pins them against each other, pins them to clash as exact opposites—though he wants nothing more than to hold the older man—a new degree of distaste heightens inside him. Unlike the other realms they've visited in their games, only this one forges a rift between them; only this one incriminates his lover as a monster.

Nevertheless, this is where fate has brought them to spend this Halloween...so something important must be in store for them tonight.

Shifting his armor, checking to make sure his sword is still tightly in hand, the silver-haired teenager embraces the scene on a more critical level. From the yellow hue of the floors depicting black rings in the image of a target, to the chalk outlines of murdered people though the bodies remain missing, to the stack of televisions behind him with dark screens temporarily sealing him off from his world...the atmosphere really hasn't changed at first glance. Normally the costume of a clown-like stuffed bear would be here to greet him and the companions he would bring along, yet this time around the creature is absent and the air is silent. He isn't worried despite the absence because he knows the stuffed bear is with his friend, Yosuke, probably devouring sweets from the girls over in his world.

Right now, this realm is privately Adachi and his, excluding the shadows. Speaking of which, why hasn't he heard the echoes of their haunting voices? The shadows aren't exactly known for keeping quiet, as he learned from Teddy, since they tormented the innocent creature with their malicious bellowing. The sole explanation sends a tremor of anticipation and vexation up his spine. The one he desires is probably close by, yet he can do no more than assume until he dispels the mist with the glasses resting in his pocket.

Wasting little time, the shades are soon in position as the mist vanishes to reveal a large amusement park with the appointed theme celebrating the holiday. If any other person stood behind the sentiment, a smile might have spread across his face or a telltale sign of a blush at the sight presented in front of him. Yet, he knows full-well Adachi isn't passionate enough to go through all the trouble of making his lover feel special on such a night. Instead a curious frown etches itself in place as he starts walking toward the pointed gate entrance, with twin skeletons holding a sign: “Enter if you dare.”

Advancing into the strange alternate scape of twisted reality, keen gray hues bow respectively in greeting to the imposing skeletons dancing to the beat of the ominous wind while braving the change of atmosphere. Sunken voids observe his every movement as the amusement park seems to take on a more _lively_ appearance as the spectacle springs into greater life, beckoning him to take his chances with lady luck and snatch up some prizes. The wary teenager resists the urge to potentially be devoured into the zealous scene of flashing lights, delicious scents, and adorable yet bizarre stuffed creatures hanging from their respective hooks.

From faceless clowns spinning around on their wheels, to attractive mermaids singing out like siren, to creaking ships and spiraling rides, nothing strikes him as something extremely out of place; except for the obvious lack of excited faces or sounds of people near any of the attractions. In fact, there are no glimpses of the blotchy shadows lurking around either to force him into battle. Everything is simply moving to a dead rhythm without stopping. All of this washes over his senses in an eerie sensation, and heightens further once he stumbles upon a severely out-of-place circus tent.

Do amusement parks normally have a big-top in the direct center of their festivities?

Considering this strange discovery, the layout begins to reveal more of its secrets. The circus tent is the main attraction here, all the rides and booths lean in toward it... as if an unseen rope is yanking customers beyond the scarlet-gold drape. Sparing a closer look at all the entrances to the various areas of the park also leads him to notice the numerous signs and arrows—previously overlooked—above labels advertising the **spectacular** show sure to **mystify** young and old with the amazing talent of its troupe.

“What are you trying to lure me into?” The masquerading warrior mutters under his breath as he subjects himself to the obvious hints and brushes aside the flap to disappear past the entryway.

Within the confines of the dimly illuminated structure hovering candles, bound in their comedic style, welcome him. Compared to the outside, the inside appears gigantic; especially the ceiling that gives the sense of a limitless sky except the only stars up there are the performers. However, glancing around the rows of seats and the enormous center-ring exhibiting objects used to execute the stereotypical acts, one reoccurring theme persists. From the tightrope above down to the blazing fire ring alongside a massive decorated ball, the same factor as in viewing the amusement park area influences this scene as well: there are no crowds; no participants.

Traveling closer to the middle, a large crimson pole stands imposingly in the midst of a ring of elevated earth. Tracing the outer edge cautiously for good measures he finally steps past the red rim to stumble back in sudden caution as a loud speaker manifests, vibrating with the bellowing voice of someone who he can only assume is the Ringmaster of this bizarre circus.

“Are you enjoying yourself? Well, it's not over yet folks! The _main attraction_ is about to **begin**...”

Souji backs away, cringing and shielding his ears slightly against the sheer intensity of the outrageously loud announcement. The volume sprang forth so low he actually strained to hear the peculiarly familiar gentleman's voice at first then toward the finale of his enthused statement the loudspeaker cranked up the sound to a dangerous level. The entire area actually quakes and vibrates from the sudden amplification until the voice phases out, leaving the area now frozen in silence.

Slowly, tense hands remove themselves from his ears as he glares at the loudspeaker in irritation. In the blink of an eye the long sword, resting at his side all this time, is finally unsheathed as he fluidly slices the offending object in half and replaces the weapon back where it belongs. Immediately a chorus of laughter assaults his abused ears, creeping forth from every corner of the room though no matter which direction he turns the room is still ominously empty.

“Take a bow. The audience adores you. Aren't you popular!” A melodious voice whispers as the sole sound of clapping breaks the throng of laughter into numb abandonment. “You must be a natural! A special individual that people just cannot...dislike!”

Spinning on the balls of his feet, Souji squeezes his grip around the hilt of his sword as he comes face-to-face with—absolutely nothing. Darkness glares back into his heated gaze, ushering him into deeper vexation. Fate must be really testing the extent of his patience, because this game is driving him crazy. In the past none of their games ever lasted this long, since he always managed to capture his prey before anything like this sprouted into fruition. Yet this realms is almost insufferably timeless, and each advance into this frustrating mental mind-fuck honestly leaves his libido throbbing with unsatisfied desire.

“Adachi! Show yourself!” He screams like a vicious predator forced to watch a delicious meal escape or, in more befitting terms, like a hound damned to stare in escalating malice as a juicy steak is dangling just out of reach in a sadistic taunt.

“Don't whine and pout, you're our special guest. Pick a door, any door—one to three—and collect your prize!”

Pausing for a long moment, the teenager merely reaches out for the sensation of another presence yet nothing answers to the call of his senses. Sighing in distaste, tense limbs relaxes into normal posture as gray hues calm and shift to glare at the darkness impassively as the scene morphs the area in front of him into a trio of doors with vibrantly blinking frames and large black numbers on their pale golden surfaces. Sparing no amount of consideration for any specific door, slender legs stroll up to the nearest selection—door number one—before he twists the knob and yanks the barrier violently open; nearly tearing it from its hinges.

“Don't say it!” He growls, though his sudden statement is ignored.

“Oh, I knew you would pick that door~! You're so _adorably_ conceited! Isn't that why you always **know** you'll end up on top? Is there no opponent savage enough to destroy your winning streak? I bet you don't even know what it's like to... **fail**. That confidence is...”

“Shut up.” He snaps while slamming his fist against the wall of the next stage.

Is that really what people think about him?

Everyone puts him up on a pedestal, treats him like he is so damn untouchable, but he never once asked to be regarded so highly. Spending time with people, helping them solve their problems, and building social links—each activity strikes him as being something _normal_. Without those endeavors in his daily life, the world just loses its luster and steals away his understanding of what it means to be a person.

Didn't others agree?

Those bonds make him human. And without them he is just...empty like a blank canvas. The ultimate persona, the highest compliment a human can ever receive, is the knowledge that you created bonds that will last eternally. Connections with various types of people that are untainted by destructive elements like hate and selfishness. Nothing has changed in the root of his persona, the craving to hold on and to make another eternal bond is raging violently inside him. The chosen one he fights for is the one he can never give up on.

Why couldn't that alone be understood?

* * *

 

>  “Come on, it must be so... _painful_ by now. You're used to getting it whenever you want, right?”
> 
> “You've thought about it, haven't you? What it would be like to...get off with some girl.”
> 
> “They're so frail though... it's like one thrust might shatter them to pieces. And yet, you've thought about it...when you're with your classmates.”
> 
> “So many social links, so little time, right?”
> 
> Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the masquerading warrior grits his teeth while listening to the pensively familiar voice echoing throughout the narrow hallways paved with tiles in front of him. White walls, checker pattern floors, and three mirroring paths existed in the space beyond the _lucky_ door. Groaning, a glimpse of fatigue ghosts over his features before being suppressed behind a neat mask of indifference.
> 
> “Any of those girls would spread their legs for you. They don't even know what it would be like, but you're like a god of sex to them.”
> 
> “I wonder what they would say, how their faces would contort with disgust, if they realized that you're more of a plain-Jane type of man. Though you're not chasing skirts, now are you?”
> 
> “You would rather pin down a more **endowed** lover; one with a lot of fight and passion.”
> 
> “Is it just for the thrill, just for the challenge, or do you really want such a lover?”
> 
> “Is it _temporary_?”

Ignoring the continuous murmurs, a thoughtful quirk draws a finger to tap against his chin while pondering the three routes. Unlike the disregard shown in picking between the doors, this time the stakes felt high enough to make him consider things intelligently. Plus, in contrast, something about this place always makes him more attentive to passageways. Doors are open and close, but these paths could go on forever without the slightest hint of infinity. Routes could merge into each other and turn things in the opposite direction of where someone wants to go.

Just what is the requirement this time to beat the stage?

 

> “How dare you ignore me! You know, without me, you could end up lost in here forever?”
> 
> “Left, right, or center—aren't you curious in knowing which one is the right one?”
> 
> “Then you should listen to me!”
> 
> “I know you. I know you're nearly at your breaking point. You crave, lust, yearn for **that** sensation.”
> 
> “Admit it!”
> 
> “But you can't have it. You'll be lost here, because you just couldn't accept how futile this is.”
> 
> “To choose such a lover, aren't you insane?”
> 
> “Enemies should fight like enemies! Or have you never taken this seriously? Is it too close to home, perhaps? Have you never regarded him as the enemy?”
> 
> “What a joke!”

“Is it so humorous? Every part of my body wants the passion of having him be mine forever. Isn't that love? Isn't that worth all this madness? If you want to label me a sadistic then isn't that what I am? You know me; you know I want to possess him, to make him accept me. I don't need to deny anything. I have shown him who I am.” Souji shouts in retaliation, as a strange look of satisfaction crosses onto his features. “You really have pointed out the right direction, haven't you?

In every confrontation between the two of them, especially during the last battle, hasn't the route always been one with limitless crossroads? There is always that voice leading down into the wrong direction, tempting him with victory only to snatch it away, but the truth is that it merely _seems_ conclusive. The entire game is a deceptive puzzle demanding to be solved. That voice screams go this way and that way, yet the one shouting wants to be found out or else there is no meaning.

During their investigations who continued to share private information about the case with them? Who didn't just keep silent and keep interactions with them to a minimum?

At every single end that voice keeps shout in its own manner how much it wants to be found. Thus—neither route is the right route yet every route is the right route. Any selection will lead him directly to where he wants to go. Just pick one and follow through to the finish.

With that in mind, Souji chooses the _right_ passageway to travel downward. As he proceeds the hallway widens out slightly transforming the structure bound to open up to him soon enough, as the shade of radiance brightening his choice fades into the creeping void. Locked in the abyss of blackness, a tiny dot of luminescence remains drawing him closer. Reaching out towards the brightness, smooth fabric brushes against his fingertips. Gripping the texture firmly, the barrier is tugged away to leave him bathed in a piercing glow.

“Our sexy champion has arrived on stage! Can I get a round of applause for his resilience? Any lesser man would have just shredded his pants and taken care of the **problem**!”

Grinding his teeth in further irritating, rekindling from the previous exchange, Souji tries raising his palm over his eyes to shield against the unrelenting radiance glaring him directly in the eyes. However, as if finally taking pity on him, the shine dims to the dual luminescence of massive stage lights positioned above him on either side. One scan of the new area leaves him spiraling in bewilderment as he realizes the role he is being made to portray and the impact of the Ringmaster's words from before:

> _|”The main attraction has arrived. Time to begin the show!”|_

* * *

“Thank you for joining us on _Mayonaka Terebi_. We've been _eagerly_ waiting for you to arrive! Since you've come all this way, is there **anything** you would like to share before we begin?”

Mauling over the possibilities, a single slender finger taps against his cheek as he welcomes a secretive smirk. He is left with nothing more than assumptions when it comes to guessing his lover's intentions: from the amusement park to the circus and now...this game show. And yet, a sudden giddy sensation is rapidly budding inside him like the spread of a wild fire. Something tells him this is the final act to their game, something purrs to excite him with the knowledge that this is where he must be victorious or suffer the violent slap of a wasted night without any sexual gratification. Perhaps the smugly knowing look tugging at his features is enough to insinuate that he hasn't taken those cruel words to heart. He is fearlessly convinced of his impending triumph even before the rules are spoken.

“Oh my, our guest must already be having wicked thoughts. But, it's too soon to predict if things will turn out like he fantasizes. Please hurry so we can get things underway....you do want to _sample_ what we have to offer, **don't you**?”

“All this talk is maddening, who is behind that voice? Show yourself!” Souji shouts indignantly, having grown weary of having to listening to the constant murmuring without the presence of a single entity to vent his frustrations on.

“Ah, so impatient. Such a waste, in more ways than one.” A voice responds immediately in that same strikingly familiar tone that's both pompous and imperious. “I thought you **knew** me? Or are you trying to piss me off? That would be a new one; _so uncharacteristic_ it hurts to think about. But I feel like my emotions just might... **rupture**?”

“I see. You want a grand scheme invitation...something more than words. Is it because I've been ignoring you? Was I so caught up in my **needs** that I neglected you?” The silver-haired teenager tries to sympathize in a knowing voice, though the concern seems a bit misplaced when escaping his lips.

“Are you insulting me? I haven't had enough; I always need more than what's given! This festering of emotion...it's more of a burden, isn't it? You're not taking me seriously, you're not understanding me at all! STOP FUCKING HOLDING BACK!”

The dynamic response causes Souji's gray hues to widen in temporary shock, but he still manages to collect himself rather quickly with a suddenly exasperated sigh. Those heated retorts really make him want to chuckle, a dry one of course.

Is this really a matter of holding back? Aren't the same feelings mirrored inside him? Won't he **rupture** all the same?

The whole exchange is terribly ironic—

“I'm not calm. We are both the same, right? It's because we love the same person who is so intent on wallowing in confusion that he won't accept us. He fears being regarded even lower in the minds of society. We embrace his infected ways and his deceptive masks, yet it never seems to be enough. Even sex isn't enough. He won't completely let us devour him whole; he just allows us portions. We're going insane with desire, crazy with the need for the next level of passion, and we've become insatiable after constantly getting the cold-shoulder. I know we're the same in this line of thinking, because you are _My Shadow_. So, reveal yourself!” Souji declares without the slightest hint of reluctance or denial in exposing his inner most thoughts and feelings.

> | _This isn't how the show is supposed to reach its finale. All the attractions, attention to detail, are they really going to amount to..._ _ **nothing**_ _? No—this game isn't over yet! Ah, so lame, but wait..._ |

With arched shoulders and eyes somewhat downcast, a figure stumbles out from the protection of the dark shrouded areas outside of the main stage to traverse the length of distance between them and come to rest just inches out of his reach. Deluded madness parades in the entity's vision, a permanent sneer contorting his usually nonthreatening expression, while messy locks cling to the phantom's skin that's overcast in an almost unhealthy shade compared to his own.

Extending a purposeful hand, Souji moves to touch the phantom's cheek in a strangely affectionate way, if not extremely awkward in nature. The sensation of feeling oneself, under such unsettling circumstances, is indescribable. However, the more his fingers explore the polar opposite flesh, a suspicious inclination begins to kindle within him.

Shadows are violent by nature, so why is this so easy? Could it be a trick of some kind?

Drawing his gaze back to the creature's demented gaze, the questioning deepens as he merely stares in unspoken fascination.

“T-The audience isn't satisfied. How, how could it be a failure? We are NEVER defeated. It's your responsibility, yet thanks to you everything will be driven into chaos. More people will **die** without achieving success thanks to your meddling. Isn't it selfish, Souji-kun? You only think about—!”

Releasing a growl, Souji drops his hands down to the Shadow's collar and yanks the creature forward to crash their lips together in a silencing performance. Unfazed and unrelenting, insistent cravings leave him seeking out a familiar passion and spicy flavor so cruelly hidden from him. Driven by the sheer raw excitement, once sentimental touches are now brutally intense—familiar strands being seized and yanked violently in all his lust.

With one vicious nip, the teenager finally breaks away...breathing heavily while sporting a truly smug smile.

“I only think about you. I only think about your excitement, your complex mind, and your thirst for merit. For every obstacle I have overcome because of you, won't you finally reward me? At least pity me and understand that this appearance is killing my arousal; I don't enjoy the concept of making out with myself even like this,” Souji emphasizes with a mournful sound of distaste, though his grasp on the others' body doesn't weaken.

The form in his embrace stiffens at the meaning of his words and grimaces in response. Then bruised lips are creeping backwards in a sadistic hiss, which only encourages the masquerading platinum youth to force the other to stumble back into the limelight and cascade into a throne like chair once reserved for Souji himself. Placing his hands on the armrests, imprisoning the Shadow to remain captivated in the seat, silvery hues slowly descend upon the phantom creature with a sudden glint of golden vibrancy. Grinning in the telltale fashion of the Cheshire cat, trailing a hungry tongue over his lips in an enticing manner, the teenager sets the mood before further expressing the nature of his words:

“You're unhappy with me. Are my actions too unruly? I still must be so childish. Oh, but that just means you'll have to take my place, or rather...allow me to introduce our star. All this time I'm sure it seemed fitting to label this whole performance a personification of who I am, yet from the very beginning the one who is deeply conceited is you. You predicted I would deny myself and fall into your hands, bow upon your deception, but witness how the tables have turned. I am the embodiment of what you desire. Since the moment our Persona abilities awakened, the one to copy the Fool arcana bestowed to me...was you. However, there is no such thing as a clone without its obvious flaws—oh, but you are reluctant to surrender defeat, Tohru-chan.” The slander of these unsavory words escape him like a thousand cunning knives stabbing at the core yet teasingly pricking the surface at the same time.

Spotlights align from above to surround the two figures in their florescent sheen as a massive television screen lowers on the stage wall beside them and flashing to welcome a horde of hazy individuals with murderous crimson hues. Painted white smiles congratulate them as robotic hands chime in a series of applause. Haunting noises, such as 'oohs' and 'aahs', flutter into the room in rising excitement until a demanding shout hushes everything into eerie silence.

“It's your fault they're patronizing me, bastard! W-Why, while even adorning this guise—why have I been found out?” The bound Shadow murmurs then shrieks in disbelief, “It's fucking lame! All this damn preparation and you DARE to insinuate that I am merely some pathetic copy of you! With everything I've—“

A firmly raised hand stops the fiery remarks as a honest smile curves onto the others' features, adolescent eyes tinged with amber closing in a smug display of understanding as he leans back. As much as he is patient enough to listen...there is something that has been bothering him for awhile now.

“Before we continue, would you mind changing back? We can't really proceed if the **real** main attraction is leisurely wearing my face.” He states evenly with the barest hint of a grumble at the tasteless portrayal, “Though, I must say, it's very endearing that you would sacrifice a measure of your pride to go around tormenting me as a Shadow. I am truly loved!” Souji beams happily in emphasis to his words, though the action causes the other male to tense in disgust at the notion.

Relenting and accepting that his identity is no secret any longer, the Shadow mirroring the teenager's form begins to morph and deteriorate into its true appearance. Raven blotches cascade from their humanoid canvas like blobs of paint gushing onto the floor in merging waves. The blackness gathering at the ground collects into various piles sporting glowing auric hues until nothing remains of the creature once declaring itself as his Shadow except for the impish being he has come to desire: Tohru Adachi.

Stretching the best he can in his position, Adachi glances at the floor where the meager army of shadows have retaken normal properties after using their formless bodies to conceal him and manifest the nearly perfect guise of Seta Souji. Flicking his spaded tail and leaning forward in his seat to lessen the pressure restricting his miniature wings, the man returns his sights to the warrior staring at him in unspoken victory merely to sneer in naked aggression.

“Start the show, or I might just change back and abandon you here to relieve yourself of that noticeable problem,” Adachi snaps harshly while digging his long nails into his raincoat absentmindedly.

A purr nearly escapes from Souji's throat, yet he holds back the sound to refrain from angering the man anymore than he already has without even remotely trying. Instead, he boldly leans forward to press their foreheads together calmly before moving inches away to leave a kiss on the surface in an adoring manner. Sometimes the teenager couldn't help treating the older man like an unruly child, because there are those occasional times when the other didn't realize how alluring his responses could be.

“So cute. You seem far more eager than I do,” Souji replies in a taunting, passive tone before grabbing the others' hand and resting the appendage on his chest, “Now allow me to ease your worries. I think it was most befitting that you would choose to show yourself as my Shadow. We follow different paths yet our Persona nearly mirror each other perfectly, just as we complete each other. Do you understand? You have to take responsibility for making me this way! I have become everything that you demand of a lover and yet you would cast me aside and expect me to be rewritten by someone else to suit their specific needs. It's impossible! I won't hold back anymore until you accept me as I have come to embrace everything about you!”

Each passionate statement impacts the intensity of his expression, milking him of everything he is worth in terms of self-control. He is already at the peak of his breaking point in convincing his lover and in curbing his desire. There is no better honesty than the chaotic spiral of glimmering colors reflecting within his eyes as each emotion soars to the surface before being replaced with another one. Everything is contending to be seen at the forefront yet that alone, mixed with his hasty shouts, probably couldn't be sufficient enough to sway his difficult lover.

> || **No matter what it takes... this won't be over until you're mine completely: mind, body, and soul. Adachi, you are my beloved possession...nothing will ever steal you away from me. Not even the stain of that woman! Or this beautifully corrupted world!** ||

* * *

 

> _|This isn't how it's supposed to be! Ah, so lame, but wait...something is opening up inside. Something I've fought to destroy for the greater purpose of achieving this sweet anarchy and magnificent future. W-Why is this damn [_____] awakening?|_

Sharply clawed fingertips severe the cushioned inner frame of the throne's armrests as burning auric hues glower at the passionate teenager declaring more nonsense to aggravate his fatigued ears. This entire stage, this role-reversal, is becoming extremely bothersome in the short time taken for his guise to be torn from him and stomped on like an unloved child's toy. But isn't that what he has always meandered this world as? An unloved toy, abused and tossed around, until that fateful day that he finally shatters to pieces.

So what now?

Is he supposed to believe this is any different than the past? Will he accept this and later have this dedicated voice morph and cackle in his face, berating him for his stupidity at ever believing anyone has the mind, the heart, and the soul to embrace him on any level?

Misleading fairy-tales are comprised of such trite themes. Nobody believes such an eternal, unyielding bond of love exists. Especially not in their society. Anything between them, an older man and a naive male teenager, will be frowned upon then condemned. Sooner or later, a tense situation will arise to tear whatever binds them apart and who will suffer the worst of that detrimental moment?

Who will be stricken by the countless pointed fingers of accusation and repulsion?

He is will be the one held completely responsible; he will be the one abandoned in a world that continuously denied he everything.

For he is the adult that should know better than to assist a teenager in falling astray from society's designated path; he should be the sensible one to severe their ties. And that is exactly what he intends to do.

Just like the blank faces of the clowns in the first amusement park stage, both bound in endless laughter and limitless tears, he will be the median between those two emotions that sends a final message of farewell. The amount of sins that illuminate his daring acts to change this world, the amount of betrayal fueling his veins to nullify the curse prolonging this dastardly fate, are the magnitude of a weight he must shoulder alone. A mere adolescent cannot understand him. Souji cannot protect him from the finale he has prepared ages in advance after committing the initial murder.

From the very beginning, no matter what words manifested from his lips, Adachi has been setting the stage to accept redemption by allowing himself to be struck down in the midst of battle. The contorted visage of his Persona would tolerate nothing less. Perhaps that is even why his body has taken on such a twisted form of an incubus.

Every seemingly endless hallway, or roadway littered with dozens of confusing arrows, has existed for this purpose: to capture he who wishes to escape his fate yet accept the curse all the same.

This has nothing to do with love because, at the end of the day, Souji is free while he is bound in chains. Remaining in this realm, living side-by-side with Shadows, is no different than the empty lifestyle he has always maintained. These creature have known nothing beyond the nature of their being, which makes them suitable, yet it's not the same as changing someone who has known the difference into something completely bare and devoid of unsavory human qualities. Shadows transformed from the flesh of humans in his society would hold onto those memories of what they used to have long enough to bring him satisfaction until their memories gradually fade away and complete his vision of paradise.

Without the temporary moment of gratification the endeavor becomes pointless.

Since the very beginning the futile nature of his desire hasn't escaped him. In fact the notion has tormented him countless nights. Even with the power to summon Persona his vision refuses to be realized and thus, he can only ride the waves until the impending crash; knowing he would not succeed yet determined to fight until the foul taste of defeat festers within his mouth. In despite of it all, fate still manages to spite him relentlessly with the near polar opposite of himself: Seta, Souji.

Right when he is ready to crash and burn a kiss claims his lips and sparks emotions inside him once left for dead. And since then, this vicious cycle has driven him to run as fast as his slender legs will take him. Yet, where is there to go? What further insult must he suffer before it's finally enough?

Everything about Souji is something he absolutely cannot accept on mental terms, but his body yearns to welcome everything the other has to offer even if the results will deliver him into an untimely demise. The pure honesty and loyalty to someone as grotesque as him is far too good to be true. However, just being in the presence of Souji makes him feel renewed and reborn as someone less displeasing. Still—

—there are walls for walls, bridges for bridges, and nothing will ever make his many concrete barriers tumble down.

He is a man unable to admit failure even when he has written his demise countless times. This element to his personality is another reason why they must return to their parallel existences and refrain from trying to stand on the same side. For every time Souji utters those sentimental statements that cause him so much turmoil, in turn every time he must turn those feelings aside indifferently and refuse to accept anything. He has to be the one to descend into the hell awaiting at the end of the line alone, and Souji has to forget about this time of willful youth and realize that whatever he is feeling is merely temporary. All the platinum teenager is doing is strengthening the burden he must bare and he will not lose another damn thing because of allowing himself to feel again!

“Souji—“ The raven-haired murder begins only to find himself careening to a sudden halt, mentally and physically, as he is made to stare ambivalently down to the ground with painfully wide eyes.

Bowed to one knee with the fabric of his raincoat nestled in the teenager's grasp, intense stormy hues twisted with golden hues flutter close as Souji buries his face into the cloth as if in shame or in utter respect. For a long time he is merely resigned to the gripping silence and impact of this single act, as he tries to fathom what could possibly be going through the others' mind. Slowly reaching his ears as simply a murmur, before rising in volume, the paladin clad youth speaks to him:

“Isn't this your wish? The only **show** I have to present to you is this offering of myself. On this stage, before every single spectator here, I will bind our fate in this sole manner I have remaining. Tohru Adachi, will you—“

The voice of Souji grows stronger and more resolute, which frightens him nearly to death especially when those golden rimmed eyes slowly ascend and direct their blazing emotion on him. In seconds he is weak, numb to the spiral of thoughts governing him to resist and sink away from this determined young man. Confusion claims him eventually as a somewhat scandalized expression twists his features for, in only a matter of a few minutes, the leverage of power giving him authority over the current situation has shattered to pieces. He is naked once more unto those piercing eyes, and terrified of what might exit those lips, so he cuts in quickly to recapture some form of grounding:

“You are like the plague—you and your emotions!” Adachi screams while trembling slightly, “S-Stop this!”

However, the nightmare creeping upon him is merely smiling at his words as a purposeful hand reaches out for him. For some unknown reason, maybe curiosity, Adachi leans down to the touch and stares as fingertips caress the smooth texture of his cheek before cupping his face lovingly.

“Will you be mine? Allow me to protect you from all those fears. Grant me permission to love and cherish you even after we've returned to the earth,” Souji whispers adoringly while slowly rising from his position to press a chaste kiss to Adachi's lips before drawing away to resume his kneeling position.

* * *

All his resolute decisions are crumbling to pieces, some metaphorical breeze scattering them into the silence gripping his resistant mind. Each corridor littered with fears, each door closed on the possibilities of accepting the devoted offering in front of him, are vanishing into a distant cage within; where even he cannot quickly grasp them anymore. He is simply a man frozen in his seat without a cruel statement to escape the situation cooling him, as well as burning him completely. Again, as if he should even bother counting anymore, Souji has stripped him naked and left him unsure of himself.

“T-This isn't funny! Stop spouting nonsense!” Adachi shouts as his control begins to waver, a peachy hue coloring his cheeks.

Panic is weaving into his system as the immense weight of those words clings to his frantically beating heart. No matter how rigorously the bane of society knocks at the corridors of his mental walls, there is always the reassuring silhouette of the man crouched in front of him to shelter him. He is fighting a losing battle; he is witnessing the sheer intensity of this simple fact in the auric sheen clouding those determined gray eyes.

The choices they have made, the chaotic road they have traversed to achieve maintaining their relationship is no longer merely about him. A poison, one wrought from his own creative obsession with escaping this wonderfully corrupt world and its selfish inhabitants, has infected Souji. If he continues to chase after him, continues to forsake his friends and family for the sake of being with him then...perhaps there really isn't any route back for either of them?

Those tainted hues, the color bestowed upon those who have become a part of the true master governing this realm, are glinting the same as his own. He cannot deny the transformation any longer, or rather he didn't need to lead Souji in endless circles anymore.

This place, bathed in the illumination of so many gawking spectators, is where they could finally embrace the entirety of their foolish ways. Twin fools of a similar arcana shaping a new reality where the bewildering nature of their intimate feud might obtain closure. If he welcomed Souji inside then, _maybe_ , sacrificing even his precious ideals for the presence of the unmistakable love directed at him might provide him with a reason to trust another person one more time.

Inhaling a deep breath, he schools his nerves and expression before reaching down to lift the adolescent's chin to meet those patiently waiting golden rimmed hues. All this time, running away from the countless signs so blatantly obvious yet masked on that youthful countenance of devotion, merely to find himself captivated and dependent upon the sheer strength and resolve of the modest soul radiating from within. And yet, this point of clarity intimidates him the most while also reaffirming his determination to prove once and for all that Souji's feelings for him cannot thrive within the boundaries of the real world.

Society will tear them apart; maybe not immediately, but in time the weight of expectations, judgmental words and stares, and general disgust will forge a rift between them. The nature of his career stations him constantly in the forefront of the media and public eye, and any starved reporter will jump at the chance of a delicious scandal between an assistance detective and his superior's underage nephew. Dojima will have his head on a silver platter if he ever finds out about them. He will be accused of seducing a minor and of trampling over his bright future. And, in the aftermath, how will they amend their status in the perspective of society and family? _**They will be shunned!**_ No one will want to associate with them once their relationship becomes perverted in absolute humiliation.

More so, Souji will eventually have to leave Inaba to return to his original home and resume his education. In a new school, surrounded by fresh people and social links, there will come a time when someone special crosses his path and steals his heart. For the time being, he is simply confused by the flow of all the conflict and demands of being a heroic leader and mistaking compassion for _love_. He probably feels pressured by morals and ideals to rescue his soul from the worst fate imaginable, and actually thinks such intimate affections will sway him to seek out redemption but— _he is not so naive!_

_**Will he, what?!** _

Will he spend a lifetime trusting a mere child to protect him, while counting down the time until the pressure becomes too much and he is tossed away like a piece of ordinary trash?! _**NO!**_

The outright notion of consenting to such a proposition is laughable. There is no future for them, because the world outside remains corrupted by bitches and whores with no hope of salvation. If mankind adheres to perpetuating this degeneration then, in exchange, he is obligated to deprive humanity of everything that disguises their innermost desires and personas.

For the purpose of restoring supreme justice to their wretched lifestyles, he will pave the route and paint the arrows leading to absolute pandemonium; to a spectacular blood-soaked, macabre room uncovering the rotten nature of one's true self. Then, when the magnitude of shadows dwelling within each and every soul is unleashed, he will assemble them on the battlefield unto their forsaken hero as proof of the legitimacy of his deeds and expose the—

“Truth. Everything I've said is the truth. I will not abandon you, or hand you over to the authorities.” Souji announces; shattering the course of his thoughts momentarily. “Our fates have been intertwined since the moment our inner potential was awakened, however, that isn't when I fell in love with you. Running in circles, fighting each other tooth and nail for satisfaction and answers, was just the beginning of learning about you. In time, honestly, this routine we developed has merely become a convenient excuse to be alone with you...because the moment I understood I loved you is when I realized that you're not the person I believed you to be inside my head. When I could finally see the depth of your _true_ persona...my feelings for you didn't change. In fact, I felt possessive of the you who would only show that side of you to me.”

_**YOU LIAR!** _

Exploiting his own words against him and professing some type of crooked attachment to those distinctions in his character is ludicrous. When suspicions and evidence accumulated against him, the security of his career and daily life gradually became in jeopardy. For awhile he considered fleeing inside the zone of consciousness presented by the Midnight Channel, and isolating himself from society completely.

Until, for some peculiar reason, the focal point of the investigation reversed direction and pinpointed _Taro Namatame_ as the culprit once again. All the pressure from his superior and those bothersome teenagers seemed to fade away with the setting of the sun; only remnants of confusion from the unusual phenomenon lingering to blanket him into the night.

Bewilderment spoiled his mood, compelling him to seek out the familiarity of the private quarters he constructed within the Midnight Channel in spite of his mended freedom. However, the semblance of seclusion vanished in the blink of an eye as a certain platinum-haired youth appeared to disturb him:

“ _So, you’ve figured it out…but why come alone and not bring your friends? It’s no fun this way.” He had murmured from his seat in a lone chair, while idly balancing the weight of his handgun over his knee; his back hunched over in disinterest._

_Those distinct silvery eyes had fixated on him in a manner that screamed for praise and celebration, yet he had offered neither as he suspected—in detached admission—that the animated teenager must have been the mysterious source orchestrating this sudden presence of immunity. His unannounced, solitary visit and spirited ambiance had exposed that much, however, for what reason he would traverse to such lengths for a murderer remained undiscovered._

_They had only passed a couple days in each others’ company shopping or conversing about their lives to a general extent; so the concept of wondering why was definitely valid when considering how minimal they had learned about each other. Additionally, they truly wouldn't be categorized as **friends** even if Dojima encouraged them to bond over dinner or watching television shows. Nevertheless, something had influenced the younger man enough to pursue this meeting between them in spite of the delusions that should have explicitly faded by now and left him ashamed of their association._

_Then why? Why had he insinuate such incredible satisfaction in his own impulsive meddling? And what had he been expected to assume from the familiar gleam in his eyes? It hadn't possibly meant—_

“ _I came to talk to you alone…about the murders.” Souji had prompted with moderate uncertainty in his voice, though the fortitude conveyed in his posture seemed to contradict such vulnerability entirely._

_Honestly, he had anticipated more opposition than this stale diligence for an explanation he didn’t plan on contributing. Assumptions and opinions had been repeatedly one-sided about whom he embodied as an individual from the very beginning, and he refused to be responsible for any conclusions made about him. In fact, they could merely bypass the pointless filer and reach the significance of this meaningless exchange; since they had both already recognized what must happen from that point on. Regardless of how their conversation ended, they would remain enemies. If Souji sought out the unabridged truth, then he had to play by his rules; by amassing the illustration governing the web of murders in not Inaba, but in the portal beyond the macabre room he had constructed for **Mayumi Yamano's** demise._

_The cat-and-mouse diversion had become worthless—his mirth had been stripped from him—and he had hungered to show them everything he had done; everything their puny minds would never comprehend until they were older and victimized by the sickening reality of what arbitrated the future of success verse rotting in despair: talent. Striving to work hard had meant absolutely nothing, because only people capable of shining out amongst the crowd were acknowledged by society. They had to understand, someday, that reality was harsh but the power that they had to manipulate and fabricate illusions of their personal desires...dominated over the alternative._

_They would all be better off living in a world of their own creation. Life would be so much easier, but...Souji's adolescent mind had simply dismissed such assurance. Resolute conviction had turned at the numerous gears empowering his naive mind to persuade him to embrace a different understanding in regarding life and in forsaking his precious illusions for reality. He had not been swayed, yet he had humored his attempts nonetheless._

“ _How boring. You’re not here for that.” He had laughed. A mockingly casual gesture in spite of the tension rising in the atmosphere. “Let’s talk about the murderer himself. For instance, why has his heinous crimes suddenly been swept under a rug while some peace-loving philanthropist takes the limelight for his own stupidity in not realizing that his method of_ _ **saving**_ _people was nearly killing them!?”_

_The answer had been clear to him yet, for some reason, he still felt compelled to ask. Unless he heard the answer aloud he would never acknowledge the others’ involvement in his personal affairs. As the protagonist of this small town story, Souji was supposed to uphold his role accordingly and challenge him every step of the way; the hero must earn his philosophy of justice or else his purpose would be lost within the turning of a page._

_He, too, must secure his involvement or—game over._

“ _Have you come here for the answer to that question as well?” He had further mocked coolly._

_Again, that same procession of emotion danced across the young man’s countenance; though he noted how the other appeared to have come to a decision within himself finally. In the instance he had spotted the change, he had risen from his seated position to aim his handgun at his temple in warning; clinging to the reassurance that the threat would ensure a genuine explanation._

“ _I...convinced them to trust you. Mr. Namatame is mentally unstable but admitted to his crimes. He may have denied some of the murders, yet can we believe him after overhearing his innermost thoughts from his other self?” Souji had perfectly rationalized, though he found amusement in the fact that those silvery hues refused to meet his gaze but continued on so confidently, “We should investigate to see if he committed the other crimes unconsciously...which was what we all agreed upon. No one will question you further until we gather more evidence but...no one will find anything.” Souji had explained in an ominous tone; one alluding to a darker participation than he had anticipated, yet also demanding complete authority over the situation._

_But why would he interfere or even refuse?_

_The bizarre development had been ineffective in offending him as much as the concept should of infuriated him, yet he still had needed to know the reason behind his dauntless actions._

“ _Prolonging the inevitable? What a joke! If you’re still clinging to the person you believe me to be inside your head then you truly are a fool.” He had hissed those words coldly, though he had endeavored to enjoy the mirth of the situation. But, as the utterance had left him, the burn of old wounds had twisted his intentions and soured his mood. Memories of isolation and rejection had tempered his dull eyes into an unsavory glare tinged with auric sheen, causing him to grit his teeth afterwards in outrage at his own inner demons._

_Something about him had always made people cast him aside or avoid him altogether. He had constantly found seclusion staring him in the face no matter what methods he had tested and, eventually, he had realized the appeal of solitude. Without people hindering his desires with bickering or attempting to force him to accommodate their ideals he had the opportunity to live freely._

_Immense agitation had welled up inside him as he realized Souji had been obstructing his freedom as well by being so persistent in influencing his life. Unanswered questions had bound him in confusion despite his frustration, distracting him from what mattered, since the words Souji had offered remained shrouded in a mysterious ambiance that neglected to communicate his purpose for protecting him. And yet, in spite of the noticeable signs, his thoughts had spiraled downward into unfamiliar territory that practically implied that he might...crave for Souji to interfere with him more; to confuse him more in a manner he might accept:_

_Why be concerned with him?_

_Why lie to friends and family for his sake?_

_**Why, why, WHY?** _

_Finally, when he could endure the bewilderment no more, he received the most peculiar answer that should have prepared him for their confrontation later on; their clash of identities that had prompted the kiss that altered their relationship and careened them down into this loathsome rabbit hole:_

“ _The truth is, I stopped being a fool after spending time with you. But you would never take me seriously, never...allow me to get closer unless I remained deceived. However, I cannot be this self-conscious of your boundaries any longer. From now on, I will be completely honest with you. And you...”_

_Souji had hesitated to finish, as if the impact of his next words would wound him greatly. Remnants of rekindled confidence and resolve fizzled out of existence to be replaced by a reluctant grimace. In spite of his calm appearance, he had lowered his eyes and run a hand through his platinum bangs in an absentminded manner while releasing an unexpected sigh; one demonstrating a noticeable amount of unmasked sorrow._

_Witnessing the subtle collapse in Souji's exemplary composure had encouraged him to press further. He held no aversion to hearing whatever might be said to him. Numerous others had insulted him in the past, in ways a mere schoolboy could never begin to comprehend. There was nothing Souji could be so unwilling to share with him that would actually shatter the barriers he had built around himself. His self-assurance in this fact spurred him on, prompted him to allow his gun to finish this conversation for them._

“ _...you will hate me.” Souji had stated in resigned defeat as his bullet grazed the outer-shell of his ear._

“ ** _I will hate you.” He had mimicked simultaneously while firing his gun._** _“What a pathetic reason to be so disheartened,” he had muttered under his breath afterwards before lowering his handgun._

_Piercing stormy eyes had jerked upward to fixate on him immediately, though he had expected the other to not overhear him. The startling blaze alone in those colorless depths had spoken more volume than the declaration he received in response:_

“ _When you care about someone...isn't that natural? Or have you even forgotten that much?” Souji had gritted out, but he was already bored with their pointless exchange._

_Just as he had originally concluded, there really was nothing for them to talk about. He didn't approach Souji for sentimental attachments, so if the other wanted to prove something to him then he had better come back with his useless companions and face him in battle. Muster all those dormant expectations and frustrations in an arena where he could finally severe the lingering thread of friendship he so desperately clung to._

_They were enemies, and nothing more._

_That **I** **S** what's natural between them._

_With a meager shake of his head, he had turned his back and begun to walk away. The echo of his voice carrying over his shoulder as he moved to leave:_

“ _I have_ _ **forgotten**_ _why I came here. You clearly have nothing important to say to me.”_

_In seconds his presence was gone, yet Souji spoke to the empty air nonetheless. His tone squandered in somber displeasure as his fists clenched at his sides. He had failed to convey anything more than what the two of them previously understood; failed to confess that what he felt wasn't friendship. However, Adachi didn't care for words. He should have known, yet relying on selecting the perfect responses and statements prevailed as second-nature to him. Everyone melted and lowered their guards when he simply said the appropriate things...except for Adachi; only he refuse him._

_Adachi always seemed to see straight through him and wordlessly mocked him. That's when he had started to pay attention and notice the flaws in the mask the other man wore; that's when he realized he wasn't the only fool. But, even if they were mutually fools, what mattered was that he had learned just what Adachi wanted from him. In spite of never speaking his intent aloud, he understood that he would have to be bold and conquer Adachi with actions, not words. He would have to challenge the other on the battlefield were he gained the most solace and captivate him with a genuine act of loyalty and devotion._

_Adachi constantly provoked the world, daring all of humanity to demonstrate what outstanding justification remained for him to trust. Self-indulgent and offended, people ignored him and focused their attentions on those who strove for answers to far easier questions in life; those who wouldn't require such excessive involvement to interact with and convince. Adachi had resigned himself to loneliness, to being abandoned, and had stopped acknowledging the value of compassion, of interacting with others._

_Souji had concluded this as they spent more time together, and had resolved at first to be the one to change his mind. But deeply-rooted, fortified walls stood guarding Adachi from him each step of the way. Just as Adachi had anticipated, he had felt defeated and considered if their connection had truly been so apathetic. Perhaps he wouldn't be the one the older man needed, or the one capable of restoring his faith in humanity. He should just pass the burden off to someone else, and maybe they would be successful._

In that brief moment, he had actually considered becoming precisely what Adachi accused him of being: _**a liar.**_

_That slap of reality had burned him to the core and driven to contemplate what Adachi meant to him. Did he want to simply prove a point, insist that he was different from the rest, or did he sincerely desire to not lose Adachi?_

_The inkling had scarcely established itself within his mind before he had risen to track down Adachi within the corridors of the Midnight Channel. However, in spite of his determination, he now stood alone once more in the wake of his own defeat. Adachi had still not acknowledged him and, this time, he had shamed himself by acting childish._

_Had he honestly expected Adachi to respond seriously to such a naive insult?_

_Obviously, Adachi understood his feelings better than anyone but what had he ever been given in return? Cruelty and rejection had torn his ability to care about another person to pieces to the point that being hated was simply an admittance of refusal to accept him, of refusal to put forth the effort to embrace his true personality. Adachi hadn't insulted him but rather conveyed to him that feeling disheartened meant that he genuinely cared; because for him to aspire to persevere—even if his actions caused him to be hated—demonstrated the extent of his passion to maintain their relationship._

_And yet, he had caused Adachi to lose confidence in him by not only being rude, but by also contradicting his own confession. Adachi had finally chosen to be open and honest with him, and he had still hurt him by failing to truly see the person in front of him. If he continued down this path he truly would be nothing but a deceiver. He had to reconcile with Adachi, even if that meant he had to unleash every single one of his persona to overpower him and persuade him to acknowledge him._

“ _ **You will hate me...but you will love me too.”**_

_If only he had been able to utter those words, if only he had been more patient to understand. Then perhaps...things would be different._

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Started in 2014) I originally expected this story to be an one-shot and writing experiment after I read the first book of a series by Simon Holt, 'The Devouring.' I liked the way the author utilized his descriptions of the environment to build an ominous tension, while driving the reader to analyze the clues and realize what phobias and fears were being presented to them through hints in the context. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in the overall content of the trilogy and the fact that such great descriptions got squandered and lost in the finale. Even so, I still felt empowered to improve upon my use of descriptions in the environment to offer a bit more mystery and tension; because I normally focus more on the characters themselves than anything else. However, perhaps I became just like that author towards the end as I fell back into my own old habits. Oh well.


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